


For These Last Few Moments

by goseaward



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-10
Updated: 2003-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-31 13:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goseaward/pseuds/goseaward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape and Harry work together to defeat Voldemort--and in other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For These Last Few Moments

Golden-amber, the liquid glittered hypnotically from its confining bottle, small bubbles moving at random within it, not flowing upwards as one might expect. The small cylinder, less than two inches long and the width perhaps of a quill nib, floated gently in the centre. The cylinder's colour was obscured by the rich glow of the preservative. Snape tipped the bottle upside down; nothing within it seemed to change. 

"You see," he said quietly. 

"Yes," Harry replied. 

Snape replaced the bottle on its shelf, behind multiple jars and bottles of green fluid and other things Harry didn't wish to have named. 

"What will it do?" Harry asked. 

"Kill anything and anyone it touches." 

"Then how will it kill all the Death Eaters and Voldemort at the same time?" 

"Idiotic three-dimensional mind." Snape sat down at his desk and glared. When Harry didn't leave, he snapped, "We're done." 

"Yessir," Harry said mildly. He paused in the doorway. "You'll be your chambers at eleven?" 

Snape did not dignify the question with a response. 

* * *

Eleven o'clock sharp. Snape's chambers. As Harry had expected, Snape was resting in a chair in one dank corner. Harry walked over, climbed unceremoniously in his lap, and buried his face in Snape's shoulder. 

"Did I give you permission to do that?" Snape asked. 

"You never say no," Harry said, ignoring the rough taste of wool in his mouth. 

"Mm," Snape said. One hand slid up Harry's spine, back down, cupped his buttocks. "You shouldn't be here," he said for the umpteenth time. 

"I know," Harry said. 

A few minutes later, Snape pointed out, "You haven't moved." 

"Do you want me to?" 

"Yes." 

Harry stood up, held out a hand. Snape ignored it, but stood up as well; Harry grabbed the sleeve of his robe and dragged him to the bedroom. 

"This could be the last time we do this, you know," Harry said in the midst of the sweet pull of flesh, the trembling aching heat that was so at odds with everything else. 

Later, as Harry was leaving, Snape said, "It could always be the last time." 

As usual, Harry set a small piece of parchment on Snape's desk on his way out the door. It had only one word. 

* * *

"A most interesting gift you left me last time, Potter," Snape said with a hint of mockery. 

"What about it?" 

"Dance?" Scorn dripped from the word, leaving puddles of sarcasm and hurt on the floor, below Harry's vision. "Has your last brain cell joined the porridge that fills the rest of your head, or were you trying to be romantic?" 

"Neither. I don't know how." 

"Wonderful," Snape said. 

"Can you teach me?" 

Snape considered him, that finger tracing his lips again, deliberately sensual. "What will you give me in return?" 

"Do you even have to ask?" 

"Well then." Snape smirked. "I shall extract payment later." 

Harry nodded. 

"Did you have music in mind?" 

"No." 

"Good, because I'm sure you have absolutely horrendous taste." Snape walked over to one of the many shelves in his quarters and started pulling out some flat things that looked vaguely like Muggle LPs would if they happened to be a quarter of an inch thick and only about a wand's length across. 

"Bach," Snape finally announced, flicking his wand to send the rest of the albums filing back into the drawer. "I assume you've heard of it?" 

"Funny Renaissance music?" Harry guessed. 

"Baroque, at least the most famous Bach. This is a wizarding descendant of his, Romantic period." Snape's back was turned now, and Harry couldn't see what he was doing, but soon the soft notes of some kind of music were floating all over the room. Harry pretended not to notice that some of the squigglies in the jars responded.

Snape came over to Harry and pulled him effortlessly out of the chair. Before Harry had a moment to protest, one of Snape's hands was on the small of his back, the other was holding one of Harry's hands out from and above his shoulder, and they were pressed closer together than Harry thought necessary. 

"Put your hand on my shoulder," Snape commanded. Harry complied. "Do you feel the beat?" 

"No." 

Snape snorted, tightened his grip on Harry's back, and started moving around the room. Harry tripped after him. After the fourth time he'd nearly knocked them both over, Snape stopped moving and glared down. "You've gotten worse since your fourth year." 

Harry nodded again. 

With a long-suffering sigh, Snape bent down so his mouth was close to Harry's ear. "Move with me. It's much simpler than Potions, so even your small brain should be able to understand it. Now, ONE-two-THREE-four..." 

Snape was moving on the one and three, so Harry swayed with him. It was more sensual than he'd expected, the long lean body pressed to his, sharp eyes boring into his, those lips moving slowly, caressing the numbers. The music started to swirl and pulse, or maybe it was just the dizziness of having his lover's warm body pressed so close. They were near enough now that when they breathed Snape's chest pressed into Harry's. 

"That's...nice," Harry said after a few moments. 

In response, Snape slid his hand all the way across Harry's back for support and bent him completely over backwards. 

"Hey!" 

Surprisingly, Snape kissed him, a soft searching kiss unlike their usual haste. The position was hard on Harry's back, though, and he pressed at Snape's shoulder till the taller man let him up. 

"I think that's enough for tonight," Harry said. 

"You'll embarrass yourself at the Yule Ball," Snape said, then stopped. "You're right, there's no point." 

"Hmph," Harry said, and kissed him again. 

* * *

"How do I use it?" 

"What makes you think you'll be using it?" Snape asked. 

"I will." 

"It must be placed somewhere where Voldemort will touch it." 

"And?" Harry prompted. 

"It will recognize him and kill him, and anyone in his psychic space." 

"You—-" 

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named hates me sufficiently to protect me. You as well." 

"All right." 

They stared at the cylinder a bit more. 

* * *

"Can I stay here tonight?" Harry said, leaning on one elbow. 

Snape glared upwards. 

"Please?" 

"It's cold," Snape conceded. "You may stay as a heater." 

Harry snuggled in happily. 

In the morning, Snape was gone. He'd left a piece of parchment. It had two words: You snore. 

* * *

The next time they saw each other alone, Harry pointed out, "That was more than one word." 

"I didn't start things by saying 'I'd like to have a word with you,'" Snape mocked. 

"Bugger," Harry said. 

"Which you then did. Promptly." 

"You liked it." 

Snape tapped the bottle on the desk. "Voldemort will be attacking after Christmas this year." 

"So we need to get to him before then?" 

"During, hopefully. Or just before." 

"Why?" 

"So he's concentrating on the Death Eaters." 

Christmas would be the last time, then. Since Harry would probably not survive the mission. "Bugger," he said playfully in Snape's ear, and kissed the earlobe until Snape gave in. 

* * *

"You do realize you'll never complete such a mission successfully." 

"I will." 

"No. It must be a more experienced wizard." 

"There's no one more powerful than me." 

"Power isn't everything. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is more powerful than you are." 

"He's also stupid." 

"So are you." 

"You have a weird idea of foreplay." 

"You think this is foreplay?" 

* * *

They had been exchanging glances all night across the crowded Great Hall. Somewhere Snape had found a black wool robe, of finer cut than his others, that really showed off his arse. 

Harry wanted it. 

Tomorrow he would probably die. What would it matter? And he made his way across to Snape and asked him to dance. He hadn't really expected Snape to say yes, but he did. So they made their way out on the floor, and it seemed like the entire Yule Ball stopped to watch them. 

The music was slow and soft in Harry's ears, and his body remembered the way to move. He was surprised. After seeing the other students tonight, he was aware that Snape wasn't a particularly good dancer either, but it didn't seem to matter with his nerves sparking from Snape's touch. It was just a little too warm in the room, and his back felt damp and sweaty. 

"Relax," Snape said close to his ear. Heat radiated off his skin and his breath puffed Harry's hair. 

Again, Harry started to feel slightly dizzy. He could feel every fibre in his clothes pressing into his skin, preventing him from feeling Snape fully. The other man's face was over his shoulder, not staring down into his eyes, so Harry looked at black cloth. Finally he got annoyed and pulled back so Snape had to look at him. Snape's mouth was pinched, some emotion Harry couldn't read, but his eyes locked with Harry's like magnets. The rest of the room didn't matter any more. Snape's legs shifted around till one fitted between Harry's thighs, pressing into his groin and making him see stars. It was harder to dance that way, but they probably looked stupid anyway. Pulling Snape closer, he rubbed as discreetly as he could. 

"They're watching us," Harry said. 

Snape inclined his head slightly, and tipped Harry back as he had in his rooms. Harry was sure it didn't look as romantic as it did in movies, but it felt nice, especially when Snape came close enough to kiss him, even if he didn't. 

"Later," he whispered in Harry's ear, then let him up, sneered in the general direction of the other students, and left the room. 

* * *

"I'm...staying...tonight," Harry panted. 

"No," Snape said. 

"Yes." 

"No." 

"Yes." 

"Nnnnnghhaaaa..." 

Harry smiled. He stayed. 

* * *

He woke up early, as he had wanted. He snuck into Snape's bathroom for a quick shower to make him alert. 

Snape was gone when he walked out. 

He'd hoped to avoid saying goodbye, but it looked like he would have to. He wandered out to the sitting room. No Snape. 

Confused, with a dawning horror, he walked back to the bedroom. When he saw the slip of parchment resting on the pillow, he sat down hard and willed it to disappear. It didn't. 

He let his mind run over the events of the past day: the discussion about how he could or could not perform on the mission, the quick shag afterwards, the Yule Ball, afterwards...it all fit together too well. He took the parchment with a shaking hand. 

At least Snape had got it right this time; it had only one word. The word that should have been his to give and not receive. 

Last. 

* * *

Harry sat out by the lake, trying not to let himself feel anything. Last. That's why Snape had let him stay. Oh, how could he have... He shouldn't have showered. All his fault. 

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a too-familiar voice said behind him, "You're not free from destiny yet, Potter." 

As he turned around, not believing, he almost thought he saw Snape smile. "He managed to survive it, even if most of the Death Eaters did not." 

"You came back," Harry finally said. 

Snape replied, "I told you I would last."


End file.
